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Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.After giving up eighteen months of his life for his club,the Disciples’ president is finally tasting freedom again.Stone knows there’s only one thing that might ever be as sweet,but she’s too young, too perfect, too untouchable for a man like him.A Disciple will fight like a savage to protect what matters.Evie’s life is pretty much blowing up in her faceuntil Stone finds her broken down on the side of the road.Now if only she could get him to stop being the martyrand give them a shot at what she knows they both want.It’s high time this biker got the chance to let go and just cruise.

StonePulling open the car door, I watched her lie in the back seat without stirring for a minute debating what to do. I could try waking her, or just see if I was able to get her into bed without her stirring. The second option was the smart one.
“Evie.”
She shifted around but didn’t wake.
“Sweetheart, you gotta wake up.”
The sleepy groan that time had my cock responding even more than it did to the dress she had on, and that dress with the way she was laying showed off nearly the whole length of her legs in a way that was fucking testing me.
Going for broke, I leaned into the truck, reaching out to brush her hair back. It was soft, so fucking soft just like I imagined all of her would be. She leaned into my touch, but even then, her eyes stayed closed.
Maybe there was some kind of higher power keeping me from making a mess of my life.
Slipping my arms beneath her legs and back, I hoisted her up. She’d never have been heavy, but after eighteen months of working out to pass the hours, I was in better shape than I had been since I left the Marines. Even getting her out of the car door was easy now.
When I had her out and the door kicked closed, I adjusted her so she was leaning on my chest, her head on my shoulder. My sweet Evie snuggled right in, face nuzzling into my neck.
I got about halfway up the stairs when the movement finally made her stir.
“Wha—”
“Sh. You’re all right, sweetheart. Gonna get you to bed.”
“Yours,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Your bed. You’re cozy.” She nuzzled farther in like she was trying to burrow into me.
“Not sure that’s a good idea.”
Her head came out of my neck, and her hazy eyes settled on me. “It is. I know it.”
“Evie,” I started to argue, but she scrunched her face.
“No. I thought I should leave you alone, but Ember said she had to keep at Jager. She said sometimes you have to be willing to fight for what you want.” Her words slurred a bit, but there was a deeper clarity to them that shocked me. “I’m small, and I’m not that strong, but I’m used to having to fight for what I want. I left my home to get it. I can fight. You’ll see.”
It came out like a threat, but some part of me that was already screwed wanted it to be a promise.
Her face relaxed, having made her point, but that fucking nose of hers twitched.
Fuck, but that got me every time.
“Okay, bunny. My bed.”
“Okay.”
So I did just that, taking her to my bed and laying her in it. She was already out again by the time I did. Without waking her, I stripped off her shoes. Her purse was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully, it was just on the floor of Daz’s truck. If not, the crew at Candy Shop were all people Daz trusted, so they’d probably just stash it somewhere for safe keeping.
With that done, I got in beside her. I shouldn’t have, really fucking should not have for the sake of my own sanity, but I couldn’t resist wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into my side. Even in sleep, she came willingly, wrapping an arm around my middle and a leg over one of mine.
I laid there for a long time thinking that I’d imagined that exact scenario a hundred times lying in my shitty cell bed. Sure, in my head I’d fucked her to exhaustion rather than her getting drunk off her ass, but it wasn’t just the sex I’d thought about. I’d pictured this. The stillness, the quiet. My bed in the place I called home and a beautiful woman next to me.
Fuck, that imagining went back before I even knew Evie.
It went back to when I was younger than her, a rifleman a few months into my time with the Marines. My corporal decided we needed a few words before we shipped out for the first time.
“Every man that goes to war has to keep a picture in his mind. Something other than the blood and the gore. You don’t have that, you aren’t gonna make it through. That’s the brass tacks. Being a Marine means we do what we do for our country, for freedom. I’d never diminish that. But when you’re in the thick of it, when shells are falling, men are dying, and you feel like you haven’t had a real night’s sleep in a year, that ain’t always goin’ to cut it. Some of you will be leaving behind a woman that’s got your heart. Some of you might have kids. You got all the motivation you need right there. Those that don’t, I suggest you find something to hold onto. Something you’ve got, something you want, doesn’t matter. It just has to be something you can hold onto when you got nothing else.”
I had no idea what I could keep in my head that’d see me through. I wasn’t leaving behind anything. Mom had already passed. My dad was a fucking scumbag that ran out on her. I had no family. I didn’t even have the club yet. But something about what he’d said about the guys that had a woman, a family, already having what they needed, stuck.
So when that time came, when the shit I was seeing in service to my country threatened to overwhelm me, the image I clung onto was a simple one. I imagined laying my head down at night in a real bed, away from all the shit we were mired in, living my life on my terms, and a soft, warm woman that had it all from me at my side.
When I left the Marines, I didn’t let go of that image for a long time. Even when I found the club, when I took my place in it, I held onto that. It was only after years that it started to fade.
Until I met Evie.
Until they closed me in that cell and I was back in a place where I knew I needed to hold onto something to keep it together.
Only then, unlike when I was younger, it wasn’t a vague, faceless woman. It was her. And that image was all the sweeter for it.
Right then, experiencing a part of that—even if it was one night and I’d never get it again—I felt content in a way I never had unless I was on my Harley with the wind in my face.
I felt fucking free.
And I knew, no matter what I’d told myself, that there was no way I was letting go. From right then, in the dark, while she slept peacefully, Evie was mine.

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

Like this:

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.After giving up eighteen months of his life for his club,the Disciples’ president is finally tasting freedom again.Stone knows there’s only one thing that might ever be as sweet,but she’s too young, too perfect, too untouchable for a man like him.A Disciple will fight like a savage to protect what matters.Evie’s life is pretty much blowing up in her faceuntil Stone finds her broken down on the side of the road.Now if only she could get him to stop being the martyrand give them a shot at what she knows they both want.It’s high time this biker got the chance to let go and just cruise.

Coming January 11th

Prologue

StoneI shoveled in a forkful of eggs thinking I was becoming a masochist.
It was high past time for me to stop dragging my ass to that diner five days a week. Christ, after that first time stopping in to grab a bite, I should have gotten on my bike and not come back.
Instead, I developed some sick fucking need to torture myself incessantly.
Across the dated countertop I sat at—the same damn place my ass was parked every time I came in—she was singing. She did that a lot. It was always quiet, just barely audible from my spot, and eaten up by the room before it could get to any of the tables.
Today, it was “Delta Dawn.”
I knew the song, though I wondered how the fuck she did. It had to be about as old as me. My mom listened to it when I was growing up, but it wasn’t a new one even then. Forty-odd years later, it was surprising a girl in her twenties would know it, let alone be singing it quietly while she worked.
In her twenties, I repeated the thought to myself the way I did every time I had it.
Even as I did, I couldn’t tear my eyes off of her. Not that that was anything unusual. How the hell she hadn’t cottoned on, I didn’t know. Then again, Geneviev was a woman the likes of which were rare these days.
Evie had told me a lot in the months I’d been planting my ass on the stool in front of her four times. The only reason I skipped three days every week was because she didn’t work them. The food she set down in front of me each time was fine, but it wasn’t what kept me coming back. It was her. She was sweet as sugar and for some reason seemed to take to me. This meant I got a lot of her sweet directed my way when I took up residence at that counter. She’d talk about what she had going on, how she was studying to be a nurse, her roommate, crazy shit that happened there at the diner. She’d talk about whatever came to her, and I’d soak up every damn word.
What she hadn’t said—and I hadn’t asked because I was smart enough to know that it was dangerous ground for my own self-control—was how the fuck she came to be the woman she was. That being, a woman who was cute, gracious, caring, funny, but more importantly, sheltered.
I knew it the first time she’d taken the gamble on talking to me, and she’d asked about my cut. It wasn’t like I never got questions about the Savage Disciples MC patch on my back. Hell, it wasn’t even like I didn’t get those from a whole lot of folks who knew nothing about the life. It was the blatant curiosity that shone in her eyes—a look I’d seen more than a few times since—that verged on wonder. Like a bunch of bikers were the stuff of fairy tales or some shit.
“Top you off, Mr. President?” the object of my obsession asked on a light, ringing laugh.
Yeah, she’d started calling me “Mr. President” when I’d explained that part of the cut to her.
Christ, she was dangerous.
I gave her a lift of my chin, which got me a smile I forced myself not to fully take in as she topped off more coffee into my mug.
“Thanks, babe.”
The words earned me another smile, this one softer.
That right there might be the biggest indicator she was sheltered.
She’d told me once, amid her talking about the nursing program she was doing, and how she wished she’d been able to start right out of high school and already be working in the job she’d wanted since she was young, that she’d just recently turned twenty-five. I wouldn’t deny that there were twenty-five-year-olds out there that’d smile at me and do a fuck of a lot more. I wasn’t in my twenties—or my thirties—anymore, but I could still get a lot of women of a lot of different ages in my bed. Patch chasers or party girls, that “President” stitched onto the front of my cut could get me a taste of a variety of flavors.
Evie wasn’t one of those.
A girl like Evie, with the air of innocence that hung around her, had no business smiling at the gruff, former marine, old-enough-to-be-her-father president of the local motorcycle club.
And that asshole had no business coming around, drinking in all the sweet that was her, and dreaming about what it would be like to get a taste.
“Time to make the rounds,” she announced, moving her lithe body around the counter to go check on the two occupied tables in the joint.
I had to curl my hand into a fist so tight my knuckles protested to keep from turning where I sat to watch her move. It was a battle I fought every time I was there. If I had to put a number on it, I’d say I was at about a forty percent success rate. The other sixty percent of the time, I’d end up engraining her courteous smiles, the flair of her waist, the way her hips moved with her steps into my head. Like I didn’t already have a million images of her stored away up there, making certain the torture I came here and subjected myself to didn’t stop when I walked out the door.
By the time Evie finished her rounds, including delivering bills to both tables, I was finished eating. I’d even gotten out the cash to cover my meal—since I ate there so often I already knew what the damage would be. I told myself again and again that I should get my ass up and just call out a goodbye as I left.
Sticking with the theme, I didn’t listen to my own good advice.
Which was why I was still sitting at that damn bar when she was back behind it, standing right across from me with a smile on her face that had turned tight. I didn’t get it, not as I watched her grab the rag she used to wipe down the tables, not as she set about cleaning the unmarred stretch of counter in front of her.
“So…um…any plans this weekend?” There was a faint, nervous tremor to the words.
“Nothing much,” I answered, keeping my voice level.
Her anxiety set me on edge. It wasn’t like her. She wiped the same spot repeatedly as she turned over whatever she was about to say.
“I was wondering—you know, if you’re not busy and all—if you’d want to…I don’t know…get dinner,” she stumbled out. “Or something.”
Fuck.
Fuck me.
Here I’d been thinking all this time that I needed to let go of this attachment. Never, not even once in the craziest shit my brain thought up when I didn’t check myself, did I think that the tables would turn.
She had no business, not a fucking lick, asking me out.
And now it fell on me to correct that problem, even when I wanted nothing more than to take her up on her offer.
Fuck.
The time had come. No more avoiding this shit. No more convincing myself it was fine.
This was the end.
“Kills me to do this, you gotta know that, but I’m gonna have to say no.”
It sounded like a line, a bullshit way to ease the rejection. I wanted to rip the words back, choke on them if I had to when I watched her face fall as they sank in. She thought I wasn’t interested. She honestly fucking thought I’d been coming in all this time for…what? The food? The atmosphere?
No, I’d been there day after day because she was the most magnificent thing I’d ever laid my eyes on and that didn’t even scratch the surface of all there was to her.
Turning down her sweet invitation burned through me in a way I knew the singed wasteland left behind would never be the same. But I couldn’t give her that. She’d push if I did, and I was too fucking weak to keep resisting.
“Oh,” she finally breathed in response. “That…that’s okay.”
It wasn’t. Not for her, with the disappointment she tried—and failed—to mask still showing in her eyes. Not for me, with the way it was actually physically painful to hold in all the words I wanted to give her to ease that damage I’d done.
It wasn’t okay in the fucking slightest, but it was the right thing to do.
“I’m not the man you should be offering that to,” I found myself saying. I should have just kept my mouth shut, taken the blow that was seeing her dejection, and gotten the fuck out. “Shit’s me to say it, but it’s the truth.”
The downturn of her lips, something I’d never seen before that moment, told me she didn’t believe a word of it even as she said, “Okay.”
As I sat there, watching her avoid looking at me, watching her chin tip down to her slender neck like she was trying to hide beneath her honey-colored hair, I fought the urge to say more. I wanted to talk until I was blue in the face if needed to make her understand, but doing so would be admitting too much.
Instead, I finally forced myself to do what I should have done months ago. I stood, slid the money closer to her for the bill, and I lied.
“I’ll see you soon, Evie.”
They were the same words I gave her every time I walked out the door, but it was the first time I said them with no intention of making them true.Four months later, as the bars to the cell I’d be calling home for the next year and a half closed for the first time, that lie was the only thing in my head.

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

Like this:

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.After giving up eighteen months of his life for his club,the Disciples’ president is finally tasting freedom again.Stone knows there’s only one thing that might ever be as sweet,but she’s too young, too perfect, too untouchable for a man like him.A Disciple will fight like a savage to protect what matters.Evie’s life is pretty much blowing up in her faceuntil Stone finds her broken down on the side of the road.Now if only she could get him to stop being the martyrand give them a shot at what she knows they both want.It’s high time this biker got the chance to let go and just cruise.

Coming January 11th

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.